


In Memory Of

by Greytipped (halreyn)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, M/M, Memory Related, Wingfic, where yixing and jongdae find each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 20:10:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1996197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halreyn/pseuds/Greytipped
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yixing gets chosen for the Hunger Games. He doesn't want to win it. Or, where Yixing's been in living in the past for too long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Memory Of

Predebut

The teasers for this year's hunger games were minimalist; a countdown done in white, industrial-style letters over a black background. Yet, every time one came on, all traffic in the Capitol would stop. People would come out to their balconies, staring towards the far-off, giant screen mounted along the Jewel, the Capitol's largest building. The happiest were the betmakers, who knew they would rake in the biggest profits of all this year. 

The question on everyone's lips was, 

Whose voice was that in the teaser?

A plaintive voice, too muffled for the lyrics to be fully audible, sang a perpetually sad song. It was a strangely resonant voice, one that seeped through the cracks and occupied corners of you - small, forgotten corners, old hurts, family fights witnessed from through barely-closed doors - calling up all your demons, shaking you from your fingertips to that mechanized heart of yours. Like a bell shaken in the wind, tolling aimlessly, through houses, across lonely cities, perking the ears of an old dog. Like snatches of a favorite childhood song, never remembered in full. That was what the voice sounded like, and no one could stop talking about it. 

\--

 

"Zhang Yixing', the mayor said. It was as though time slid backwards and Yixing was back in the same spot four years ago, back where they had drawn his name before. Four years ago, they had chosen him as tribute for District 11, as well.

This time, they let Yixing go up the stage. Luhan's pale face, dazed, was a bit closer, this time.

"It's the first time - first time - " the announcer said, flustered. Luhan wrapped his fingers around the announcer’s mike and lifted it to his own mouth. The cameras swivelled, huge lenses telescoping to focus on Luhan.

"What he means," Luhan said, “Is that i volunteered four years ago to stop him from being chosen. And I'll be doing it again. I volunteer."

Luhan lifted an eyebrow at Yixing. "Go back down," he said. No one moved, except the announcer, who lifted a hand to his earpiece. Yixing suddenly knew that Luhan was watching him carefully, on edge, even though he didn't know how he knew. Luhan’s smile was natural, real, his poise perfect.

"I'm sorry," the announcer said weakly. "You can't, Luhan."

Yixing shut his eyes, let the world explode back into movement and shouting - Luhan shouting - lights exploding, white through his closed eyelids - 

\--

The first stage

It's the same photo that's plastered across all the tele-screens in the train. Luhan, livid, Yixing with his eyes shut, abnormally peaceful. Yixing finds it strange that Luhan would care, because Luhan had refused to even see Yixing. Even after he had won the games and come back to district 9.

Yixing likes Luhan angry. It's familiar, at least, not like the coy, prenaturally cunning slim figure always dominating the gossip news. Luhan, hair styled, clothes in disarray, sprawled across the steps of the mayor's house. Luhan on the red carpet, walking off it halfway to steal a drink from someone's hand. Luhan, off the face of the earth for months, back later paler than ever and with a smile even sweeter than before. 

Luhan in the games, killing his lover with a kiss and a mouth full of poison berries. He was a career from district two, Yixing remembers. Sehun. Luhan had sat there with Sehun's head in his lap, had smoothed the hair away from his forehead and cradled him as his breathing choked and stuttered and finally stopped. 

It was like the Luhan Yixing knew had died then, as well. Luhan had taken care of Yixing since they were both young, had taught Yixing everything he knew. That Luhan had never come back from the Hunger Games.

\--

The train winds through the Districts, picking up tributes at each stop. It takes about a day for the train to reach another district. Yixing rolls the window down and watches the greenery rush by, fascinated by everything new.

The outer districts tend to be heavily wooded and far apart from one another. District 10 is the first other district Yixing has seen in his entire life. It has a collection of the strangest people Yixing has ever seen. A handful of them wait on a ramshackle platform, made out of huge planks of wood. They are pale, so pale. Even the pupils in their eyes are a light, translucent grey. 

"Coal mines," Luhan explains. “No sunlight.”

This District has a volunteer, the announcer says. Byun Baekhyun. 

The crowd claps politely, unsure. Baekhyun smiles. He’s not tall at all-he has a fey quality to him, the way he's so thin and small and pale but it suits him - brings out the arc of his cheekbones, makes his slightly sunken eyes burn. His hair is the only soft thing about him. Soft and black, almost hiding his eyes. 

Baekhyun smiles for the camera. Yixing remembers Luhan, on the platform with all the cameras in his face. He’d given the cameras the same smile, the one that said - I can be whatever you want me to be. 

His mentor, in contrast, has a no-nonsense air about him. Xiumin, who won the games the year before. He’d outlasted the other tributes, simply won because food supplies were running so low that the other tributes were to weak to fight back.

District 9 is different. They roll into a highly modern train station, full of gleaming metal and people in uniforms ushering crowds and guiding the tribute down a long red carpet. The tribute is a impossibly tall, well-muscled person with hair bleached yellow by the sun. He walks with a loping gait, half-naked except for a pair of black trousers and a necklace made out of cord and some small bones around his neck. Tao, the announcer says.

The land outside the stations look like him - rough, untamed. It's all sand, sand that stretches into the distance, until the glittering, waiting blue-green of the sea takes over. There are houses perched on spindly legs over the sea, with boats tied beneath. People sit on doorsteps and watch. It's a silent tribe of people, all mostly half-naked, even the women. They watch silently, with an intensity that makes Yixing shiver.

Tao's mentor is diminutive beside him. Yixing remembers the year the games released a flood that wrecked the enclosure. This tribute was trapped inside an underground network of caves. He treaded water and relied on the air pockets to breath, until he made his way out of the caves. D.o, people call him. He won the year after Luhan. 

They go into the newer districts, and the green recedes. There's more metal, and more smoke in the sky. There are more people at the stations, sending the tributes off. It looks more like a celebration. 

There's no district 8, Yixing realizes.

Everybody watches the top three districts, because that's where all the careers come from. Until Luhan, D.o and Xiumin had disrupted the order for a few years, the tributes who won were overwhelmingly from these three districts. 

There's Chanyeol, from district three. He has a pair of mechanics' goggles slung over his back, and his luggage hovers beside him. He steers it onto the carriage with a series of taps. District two has Kai, whose eyes send a shiver down Yixing’s spine. The crowd on the platform, though excited and colourful, leaves a space around him. He's agile, Yixing can tell, from the way his muscles are lean and perfectly shaped to - be versatile. Climb, swim, run, fight. Kai could do them all. 

Kris is the long-awaited tribute from district one. The train pulls into the station, and it's a long while before he emerges. 

He's not a fighter. He looks too smooth, too picture-ready to be an actual fighter. After Kai, it comes as a disappointment, but also relief. 

It's Luhan's reaction that scares Yixing. He goes quiet, eyes fixed on Kris. The last time Yixing saw him like that, Luhan had just killed someone, for the first time in his life. They'd fought and shoved and Luhan had pushed him into a thicket of vines, sitting on the back of his neck until he'd stopped breathing. 

Yixing wants to touch Luhan, but this isn't a Luhan he knows. 

"I heard you're a volunteer too, this year." 

Kris nods. He takes the mike from the person's hand, looks directly into the cameras. "Four years ago, my brother died in the Hunger Games."

Luhan doesn't move. Yixing wants to reach out to shake him into motion. He should be turning away, leaving. Luhan always leaves, before anyone can hurt him. 

"I'm here to revenge him." Kris pauses. "Sehun, I miss you."

"Luhan." Xiumin pushes the door of their cabin open. 

Luhan makes a low sound, soft enough that only Yixing can hear him. He says, Sehun.

Xiumin comes over, ushers Yixing out of the door. 

He goes. 

\--

Baekhyun finds him sitting outside the door of his cabin. 

"Don't go in," Yixing warns. He shuts his eyes, refusing to look at Baekhyun. 

"What are they doing?" Baekhyun drops to a crouch, next to Yixing. He kneels on Yixing's legs; Yixing makes a noise, moves away.

"You're so grumpy."

"I told you, don't go in," Yixing says, eyes still shut. 

"I’m going after your mentor," Baekhyuns says instead. Simply. 

"I know," Yixing says. Luhan and Baekhyun, they remind him of each other.

"What's wrong with you?"

"None of your business."

Baekhyun makes a dismissive sound, stands.

"I told you." Yixing says again. "Don't-"

Baekhyun steps on Yixing's leg. Yixing shouts, hits Baekhyun's leg.

They fight.

\--

 

Luhan shouting is familiar. He shouts across the carriage at Yixing, shouts -how can you be so careless, I know you know nothing, but do you really only have grass for brains-

Yixing watches the way the Xiumin pats off Baekhyun calmly. 

Yixing really doesn't regret it. He calmly puts both fingers into his ears and walks away. Luhan did it before, Yixing can do it too.

\--

 

Baekhyun's the tribute that goes around talking to everyone. Yixing's heard that he's slept his way through half the mentors, and he can see why. Baekhyun really is beautiful. His skin is almost translucent, and the heavy eyeshadow he always wears is perpetually smudged. Inviting someone to move in and kiss it away. 

Baekhyun and Yixing become unexpected friends. Tao can't stop sniping at Yixing, and one day Baekhyun simply rolls his eyes and dumps hot tea all over Tao's hand-stitched shoes. 

Yixing makes him balm for the bruises that keep appearing, patches of stormclouds, on his skin. 

Baekhyun doesn't say why he does it, why he keeps looking for people to hurt him, but the way he smiles at Yixing makes Yixing feel a bit warmer inside. 

"That Baekhyun has been asking questions," Luhan says suddenly. "He'll get you into trouble even before you begin."

This is the only thing that Luhan has said to him. 

Yixing leaves again. It's becoming a common theme between them. 

\--

"What are you looking for in the games?" Yixing asks Baekhyun, Luhan’s warning in the back of his mind. "You volunteered."

Baekhyun barely pauses. He has earphones in, mouthing along to the song sang in the teaser videos. Baekhyun spends a lot of time doing that. He's either with someone, with Yixing (and those are only for meals), or holed up in his cabin, rewatching the teasers. 

"Don't ask, Yixing." He doesn't usually call Yixing's name. 

Yixing would have said, I can help you. But this is the hunger games, and Yixing's not used to telling lies.

\--

 

The train pulls into the Capitol station, at last. Luhan has a hand on the small of Yixing's back, as the flashlights leap like lightning in his eyes. Some of the tributes play it up (Baekhyun struts, Chanyeol moves with impressive grace for his lanky limbs. Kris...has sunglasses on. He would.)

Yixing's not someone who fears being alone. Being in a crowd scares him even more. He keeps his gaze down, focusing on the feel of Luhan's firm hand on the small of his back. 

 

\--

The capitol is made up of concentric rings, spiralling inwards to the centre. From the handheld tablet Xiumin holds, a projection of the city flickers, blue and transparent. A small car zooms along the translucent streets, just like them. 

The closer they get to the capitol building, the less color there is. The mortar-and-brick buidlings are replaced by glass-and-metal ones, contorted in strange shapes. People, so many people- they line the streets, cheering as the cars pass. 

 

\--

Luhan gets Yixing a flute. It's light, well-balanced, the wood straight-grained and a rosy, warm hue. 

It's Yixing's idea, actually. But Luhan makes it work.

"And from District 11 - what do we have there - some plants in pots lining a - Teddius, be honest. This chariot doesn't look finished. What are those wire sculptures supposed to be?"

"They look like wings. It is an idea, but i can't see the appeal. Neither does the crowd, to be honest. This is a miss for Luhan, definitely, I can’t remember the last time Luhan came out with something that’s not controversial, at least. What a shame. Wait, hes' pulling something out - that's a flute, isn't it?"

Yixing puts it to his mouth and blows, hands damp with sweat.

"-Andrew, that's the music from the latest teaser. Is he the creator behind the teasers? Could this be the answer that we’ve been looing for?"

"i don't know, there are green-and-brown vines coming out of the pots at his feet, they seem to be growing-"

They timed it just right. Luhan had scanned the plants with a handheld device that would accelerate the plant's growth. They snake along the metal scaffolding, swiftly filling the empty wing with vines, leaves and low-hanging, rich purple flowers. 

"It looks like Luhan is up to his usual tricks. For those that remember the Games four years ago- Luhan fed his lover poison. This is the same plant that he used back then."

"He's done it again. I don't think I can think of anyone else after this, I have no idea how anyone can top this display. There are so many questions, about this year's hunger games in general, that we don't have answered. Who sings those teasers? Where is it going to be held? What does Luhan have up his sleeve?"

Everyone is talking. It rushes like a wave, murmuring, over Yixing. Yixing focuses on getting the notes right. It's a simple song, plaintive, like the piping of birds near sunset. 

Maybe Yixing doesn't want to see the people around him, all dressed in a riot of colors. Like flowers crowding for space, they jostle. The stadium stacks them in rows upon rows of people, all waiting, looking, wanting. And Yixing has never been good at being wanted.

So Yixing breathes in the heavy, cloying scent of the flowers and plays his flute. Eyes shut, like Luhan told him not to do. Like this, smell, sound and sight cut off from the stadium around him, Yixing can pretend to be back alone in District 11.

\--

Xiumin, of all people, finds Yixing that night. He's careful with words, has not much use for them. Instead he communicates through body language - a head-tilt here, and querying eyebrow there, a loose shrug of his shoulders. 

It's oddly freeing, being not expected to talk. He has a schedule in his hand, and goes through it item by item with Yixing. They talk about what Yixing is good at - traps, finding food, spears. 

"I fight like you." Xiumin says. "Baekhyun's more like Luhan." 

\--

Baekhyun's struck up an unlikely friendship with the District 3 career, Chanyeol. Everyone talks about it, after Kris and Chanyeol come to blows - kris hits Chanyeol, and Chanyeol doesn't hit back. Baekhyun kicks kris in the shin. 

It's an odd friendship, stretched thin in parts. Yixing has overheard Baekhyun asking Chanyeol about his district and their business (weapons, and machines, Yixing knows) more than once. Chanyeol never says much about it, but Baekhyun always asks anyway. 

Baekhyun still hoards all the teaser videos, and watches tapes from previous Games obsessively. Yixing makes himself watch them again with him, but draws the line at Luhan's hunger games.

Xiumin and Baekhyun fight about it. Xiumin holds Baekhyun up by his shirt collar up against the wall, hissing - "you can't do anything, you need to give this up" - Baekhyun sleeps in Yixing's room that night, hidden firmly under Yixing's blanket. Xiumin goes for a drink with Luhan.

\--

Yixing and Luhan fight, the night Luhan’s interview comes out.

"I need to protect him," Luhan confesses. His eyes glimmer with a faint layer of tears. "You know I don't have family left. Yixing is the closest link to family that I have left. I can't lose him."

"And there you have it - Luhan's stunning confession. We've always seen Luhan at his best, but this time, it seems like he can't keep up the cheerful mask much longer. Let's take a few calls, see what the good Capitol folks think. Yes - you are -"

"Margritte," the woman says. "I just wanted to say, it's so sweet, the person Luhan actually is - "

Yixing's anger settles like winter chill into him. It's like he needs to get away from himself, but he can't, so he paces, paces, paces, trying the windows, the doors. It’s useless, none of the tributes can exit the Jewel.

There's nowhere Yixing can run to, the training centre is always occupied and Yixing, when Yixing's half-crying and half-howling with anger at Luhan for saying thing s that can't be true, that he doesn't and will never mean, people are the last thing Yixing wants to see. 

He ends up at the dark pool. Yixing doesn't bother with the lights, simply strips off his clothes efficiently and dives in. He keeps forcing himself deeper, eyes stubbornly shut. It's good, the deeper he gets the louder the noise of water gets. It's good, the pressure is good, the burn is good, the light-headedness is good. Yixing's going to stay down here, buried alive by water.

His lungs can't take it-he breathes, sucks in water. He flails, but it's good that he got so deep. Water's everywhere, holding him down. This is good.

When Yixing's awake, he's staring straight into the face of Tao, the district 9 tribute. "What were you doing?" 

Almost. Yixing had been so close. 

Tao slaps him efficiently. Yixing coughs water, weakly. 

"You're fine." Tao proclaims. 

"What were you doing?" Tao presses. 

Yixing doesn't reply. He's starting to shiver from the cold. The more people want things from him, the more Yixing retreats into himself.

"Yixing!" Baekhyun's voice rings over the tiles. Yixing curls into himself.

"I pulled him out of the pool," Tao says, stepping back. 

Baekhyun grabs Yixing, punches him. Yixing doesn't really care.

"You're older than me," Baekhyun says. "You're supposed to take care of me, Yixing. Why are you giving up like this? No- you didn't even try, did you? You don't even want to try. Why?"

Yixing's cold, as cold as he knows how to be. It takes both Tao and Baekhyun, and Chanyeol who meets them on the way, to carry Yixing back to his room.

Luhan's angry, of course. He towels Yixing dry and moves him into bed, tucking him in like he used to do. "I need you to live, Yixing."

"You don't." Yixing says, needled. "You don't need me."

"God," Luhan says, vengefully, "Why are you so selfish?"

Yixing licks his lips and stares at the ceiling. Luhan storms out, angry.

\--

There are no trials, that year. Yixing sneaks sedatives into the food, and no one, not the staff, not the other tributes, is spared.

Yixing’s tired of playing games. 

They go right to the games, then. 

“Yixing,” Luhan says, and then he doesn’t say anything. Xiumin pats Yixing on his shoulder. 

Baekhyun and Yixing exchange hugs. It’s strange. Yixing thought he would feel something, fear, sadness, something. Yixing’s just simply numb.

\--

The forty-plus Games that were held before have taken place in a desert, a forest, an island, a sleeping volcano, caves – all sorts of places, but never in an urban area.

Yixing blinks the flashes from his eyes. They’re all standing in a round, circular hall. The walls are low and sloping, angling to a round dome abovehead. Sunlight streams in through it, catching the dust that drifts on the wind. There’s a faint, musty smell to the air, like it had been abandoned for way too long. 

It looks like – any normal building. Big, by the standards of Yixing’s district, small by Capitol standards. The walls and the floor are made of unpainted concrete. An exit is at the far end of the room; through it, Yixing can see the pile of weapons and food common to each Hunger Games.

“Three, two, one –“ the mechanical voice announces. “Welcome to the start of the forty-ninth Hunger Games – may the odds be in your favour!”

Baekhyun's scanning the hall, spinning around in place to see the ceiling better. "Come here-" Yixing hisses, stepping off his plate to grab Baekhyun's wrist. 

Baekhyun has a stricken expression on his face, his mouth moving faintly. "Baekhyun!"

"Yixing," Baekhyun says, lost. Then - "back this way," Baekhyun says firmly, dragging Yixing towards the back of the room.

"The stockpile is that direction, and so is the exit-"

"I bet there's a trap," Baekhyun says. “Let the rest spring it for us." The rest of the tributes are forming their own groups as well. The careers, Kris, Kai, Chanyeol and Tao, are moving towards each other.

The District 12 tribute makes a dash for the exit, the District 7 one following behind them. They’re out at the stockpile in a matter of seconds.

Nothing happens to them, at first. But something moves into view, something that moves a bit too fast to be human. It lopes and crashes into the District 12 tribute, smashing it to the floor. It bites clean through his neck, a hot spray of blood making him snarl and retreat a few steps. 

The District 7 tribute hefts an axe at it. The creature retreats. It’s oddly human-shaped, like a thin, small, human, but it doesn’t move like a human. More like an angry dog. 

It leaps, and all Yixing sees is this - he sees blue sky, streaming from the creature’s shoulders. The wisps of color flutter, luminous in the darkness. It shines, pure and cool, through the clumps of grime coating it. 

It’s clear enough that blue is the color of its wings. If they are wings.

The creature slashes at the District 7 tribute with bare hands, bloodying its face.

There’s bloodied ground at its feet and the sky on its shoulders. Yixing's chest hurts, too afraid to breathe. 

Its wings beat, but not for flying - the creature uses them for manoeuvring within the confines of the hall, fanning them open to stop itself, beating them a few times to let it slipslide away – but all in all, it's a hindrance more than anything else, and the way the creature holds his wings, close to his body but not close enough to touch, makes Yixing think it thinks the same way after all. 

The iron tip of an arrowhead emerges through a wing, gleaming. Chanyeol has gotten to the weapons pile. Others are picking up swords, spears, some rope. The creature tilts its head, considering them – those eyes are not human – and turns tail and runs, disappearing out of sight.

No one even tries to stop it. It disappears into the dazzling exit way, and Yixing feels breath rush back into his lungs at last. 

Baekhyun's crying. He can't stop crying. Yixing feels like crying, himself. Is this the theme for this years' hunger games? Hybrid monsters? Those things are so fast and strong, if it had stayed around it could have taken out all of the tributes. 

"It's okay," Yixing hushes. "We'll stay out of it's way. Let the other careers hunt it."

"No," Baekhyun says. "No, Yixing, we need to go after it. We need to get to it before the careers do."

"Baekhyun, don't joke about this." Yixing’s supposed to be the – uncaring one, about their lives. Not Baekhyun.

“I mean it." Tears are still running down Baekhyun's face, but his voice is steady. "I'm going after it. With or without you."

"Why?"

Baekhyun doesn't answer that question. "We can’t go out the front," he says. "There are a lot of tunnels...we could see where these lead."

"What if those tunnels lead to a dead end?"

"I’m good at telling whether the air is fresh," Baekhyun says. "We won't die down there."

They don't, but Yixing feels like he is. It's like being at the bottom of the pool again. Some places are so low he has to crouch and inch his way through stacks of rubble, all the while in pitch black darkness. The tension gathers in his shoulder-blades, in his aching legs. Makes Yixing want to scream and turn back. 

Baekhyun keeps talking softly, as though aware of Yixing's fear. "I used to play around the fences when I was a kid," Baekhyun says. "Would go to the perimeters. To the wire fences. You could see into other districts from there. I could spend days walking those areas."

“I spent most of the time in the mountains,” Yixing says. “It was easier to gather and cultivate the rarer plants.” 

It’s not so bad, when both people are talking. Baekhyun’s unexpectedly sensitive.

\--

Yixing gulps in air, thankful for the sun and the fresh air. It's a while before the pain in his legs has subsided enough for him to stand. 

Then, he's speechless. Baekhyun is crying again, tears running down his face.

Yixing's never - there are buildings all around them, like a town. But all these buildings are heaps of rubble. The glass windows are shattered, and one building has its entire front torn off, enough to expose the rooms within like a dollhouse. Another building is lower than the rest because it sunk inwards, the second floor collapsing into the first. A row of crushed car bonnets mark the former first level. Another has an entire side of the back wall flipped over the front, the air-conditioning units hanging lopsidedly from it. 

It's so quiet. These devastated houses, which stretch as far as Yixing can see, seem to be slumbering peacefully.

The strangest thing is, there's grass growing, all around the rubble. Out through the rubble, in some cases.

"District 8." Baekhyun says indistinctly. 

It’s shock, rushing through him, to his fingertips, when he realizes what Baekhyun had said. District 8, the lost district. The district that fell off the map last year.

"What happened?" 

"There was an earthquake." Baekhyun blinks. "I used to play at the border between 8 and 10. They came in and closed everything off with barricades and armed men."

"Were you looking for this?"

"Partially." Baekhyun admits. "Yixing, we need to keep going."

The sights get stranger as they keep walking. A bridge in the distance, broken into half, is now a waterfall. The grey water foams and rushes over it to tumble into the expanse of green-blue water below. 

"I wouldn't mind if you killed me," Yixing says to Baekhyun. 

"I get why Luhan wants to hit you, sometimes." Baekhyun says frankly.

\--

They keep moving, but the careers are faster. Cannons fire in the distance, then again, nearer to them. 

"Chanyeol, Kris, Tao." Baekhyun ticks them off on his fingers. It's unbearably hot and humid, like swimming through heated water. Only the shadows from the ruined buildings give some respite, but it doesn't last long.

Baekhyun runs faster than Yixing, but it means that he runs into a trap Yixing could have avoided. 

If Yixing stands with his arm fully extended, his fingers can brush the bottom of the net that holds Baekhyun.

"Yixing," Baekhyun says - "Yixing, you can't kill that thing. You can't kill him. I think they made my friend into him, you can't kill him-"

An arrow whistles past Yixing's shoulder. He runs, not looking back, Baekhyun's desperate voice calling down the street after him. 

\--

Panic, panic so bad Yixing can barely breathe. The blue-green water gleams beside him, mocking him. He doesn’t stand a chance against the careers, and if he dies, the Baekhyun will die for sure, as well. 

He sees familiar blue wings first. Baekhyun had said that that was a human. Now that he looks closer, he can see how the creature might be human. Simply immensely dirty and vengeful, like a starved dog.

“Hey!” Yixing shouts, waving his arms. “Hey! Baekhyun’s in trouble!”

No one says Yixing is smart, but he’s not dumb, either. This time, he does know how stupid he’s being. The creature angles its head, looking down the path at Yixing curiously. Those wings beat once, twice, then the creature’s loping down the street towards Yixing.

Yixing’s stupid, but not really suicidal, for all that he says he is. A desperate plan is forming in his mind.

It chases Yixing down, closer and closer towards the careers.

\--

At the last moment, Yixing falls into the water, behind him. 

If the creature is this dirty, it must shun water The creature makes a sound like a yip, leaning over the edge to stare at Yixing.

It is human. That’s a human face and dirty hair and strange eyes, but it is human-shaped. 

Someone shouts in the distance. Yixing treads water, sweat trickling down his forehead. The creature beats its wings, staring fixedly at Yixing. It could – Yixing could be wrong and it would jump in and Baekhyun and Yixing would both die.

Baekhyun screams, high and shrill, in the distance. “Go,” says Yixing – “go, go, go-“

Finally, what Yixing hopes for happens. The creature changes direction, loping towards the career tributes.

Yixing hauls himself up onto the bank. His legs are soft with fright. 

\--

 

Yixing rounds a corner to see the creature standing on tiptoes, peering at Baekhyun in the net. Chanyeol hefts a bow behind it, concentration fierce.

A parachute falls from the sky, landing with a soft whump, a black disk-like object grasped in its net.

A woman screams. The scream goes on as the object cracks open, and rays of light seep through, forming a projection. She's scrabbling to get away, but the whole house around her is shaking so bad, she can't go far. The light fixture swings, pans fall off the shelves; the windows go dark, before they burst open under the weight of rocks. Soil spills in, before clumps of dirt tumble to the ground. 

The ceiling falls to pieces around her, a cascade of dirt burying her immediately.

The creature, when Yixing finally looks away from the projection, has its hands over its ears.

The wordless, silent way it hunches in pain, taking a step away, is familiar. Yixing's familiar with pain, experienced this way - pain so thick it strangles words - it nooses a person’s neck, yoking it with a weight so heavy shoulders and spine bow to it. Until he can't stand, until it seems like he can never stand again.

Yixing knows this pain. He'd lost his family, person by person, over a few years. By the time he was ten, old enough to know what loss was, he hadn't had anyone left.

There was Luhan - also alone. Curious Luhan, who made him bathe and cut his clothes down to size for Yixing. Who had promised not to leave, but had left anyway.

Yixing wrestles with the creature, tumbling over concrete and grass, until both are panting and exhausted. It's not a fight - it can barely even stand on its own, it's shaking so hard. At the end of it he holds the creature limp in his arms. "It's okay," he promises, hushes, over the sound of faint wheezing. "It's okay."

\--

It takes a while before Chanyeol can cut Baekhyun down. Baekhyun watches Yixing and the creature with desperate, hungry eyes, not looking away for a single second. 

He gets to his feet with jerky movements, staggering unsteadily across a broken bedframe and cracked pavements to both of them.

"Jongdae," he says, dropping to his knees. "Jongdae. Jongdae."

But no matter how many times he calls the creature's - Jongdae's - name, it - he - doesn't react. Placidly, he lets Baekhyun cradle his jaw in his hand, turning his face to Baekhyun's. But he looks through Baekhyun. Leans his head against Yixing's chest and is lost in himself, peacefully blank to Baekhyun's begging. The feathery expanses of his wings, soft and light against Yixing's bare skin, don't even twitch.

Yixing has the dizzying feeling of staring into the sky, every time he sees those wings.

"Jongdae." Baekhyun is saying. "I looked for you, I looked for you for so long."

"We should go." Chanyeol says briefly, stepping into the shadow of the building with them. He watches Baekhyun, worried.

"It's okay," Baekhyun says, brushing Jongdae's cheeks. They come away thick with dirt. "It's okay, it's okay, we'll fix this. Jongdae, you're safe, I’m here."

\--

It's hard to carry Jongdae, because his wings are in the way. They have to be folded in, one under and one over Jongdae, like a blanket. But it's fine, because Yixing and Baekhyun have no supplies. Only Chanyeol, who for some reason has chosen to give up on the careers and follow them. 

"What if he goes crazy again?" Chanyeol asks bluntly. "He's catatonic. But that's only for now. In an hour, in a day, even in a minute, he could wake up and decide that we're all his enemies now. And none of us are any match for him."

"You can leave." Baekhyun says brusquely.

"You don't have anything. Food, water, shelter- nothing."

"I didn't come here to win," Baekhyun says. "I came here to find Jongdae."

"The teasers," Yixing says, surprising himself. "Was that - "

Baekhyun nods. "He used to sing all the time."

Looking at Baekhyun, burning with conviction - who volunteered for the hunger games because he thought he recognized someone's voice - Yixing can't understand. After Luhan, who was all the family that Yixing thought he needed, Yixing seems to have lost the ability to care for anyone.

Yixing's almost jealous.

"It's been two years," Chanyeol says. "He's not the same person anymore. If that is still a person."

Given that Yixing saw Jongdae rip a person to death with his bare hands, he agrees with Chanyeol. Only a niggling doubt, a strand of curiosity, stops him. A creature can't feel pain like that. Can it?

"They won't come back so soon," Yixing says. "We can set a deadline. Two hours. If he's still not conscious by then, we'll make a decision."

"I’m not leaving him," Baekhyun says. "I’m not."

\--

Luhan would tell Yixing about days like that, days where Yixing would be lost in his own thoughts and Luhan wouldn't be able to get a word out of him.

It felt like going deeper and deeper into yourself, until the tunnel wall gave way below your fingers and you emerged into another world. A better one, a small, hidden valley with grass and a waterfall and a stream, winding its way quietly around.

Yixing would feel sorry for worrying Luhan, but he liked being lost like that.

Jongdae looks peaceful at last. Like he's back in the same valley that Yixing was, watching the sunlight and the spray from the fall draw rainbows over and over again in the same patch of air.

\--

It takes water, at last, to wake Jongdae back up. 

Chanyeol wises to it first. "Yixing," he says, "why are you wet?"

"I jumped into the river." The beginnings of an uncomfortable thought are forming. Yixing watches Baekhyun, still crouched beside Jongdae.

"Let's bring him to the river," Yixing suggests.

Jongdae doesn't react as Yixing lowers him into the water. The moment it touches him, though, those eyes flicker, before the huge wings snap open, catching Yixing in his chest and sending Jongdae into the water. It's shallow and he lands with a splash, but he scrambles out of it on his hands and knees as fast as he can, whine high and unbroken in his throat.

Baekhyun catches him around his waist. "Jongdae," he says, "Jongdae," and this time, Jongdae shivers and lets Baekhyun hold him.

\--

"Does he know the way around?" Yixing nods at Jongdae. They're cobbling strategies together, all four of them. Chanyeol’s rationed the meagre food he has out. 

"Town - fine." Jongdae says. He forms each word carefully. Baekhyun has a protective arm around Jongdae, still. "Cover. Fence." Jongdae adds. He makes a circle with his hands.

"They barricaded the fences," Baekhyun explains.

"I know," Chanyeol says. "I...they commissioned barricades from my district that year."

Jongdae lowers his gaze, but when he twists it up again, his eyes are blazing. "They watched. And waited – no – no one could. Leave."

Jongdae can't mean what Yixing thinks he means. Chanyeol has gone a bit pale. Baekhyun puts it bluntly. "They starved you all."

"All." Jongdae taps himself, counts on his fingers. "Four. They-" His wings lift and fall. "Wings." Jongdae says, touching his wings. "They said. Fly."

"They asked you to fly away?" Baekhyun's fingers are tight around Jongdae's.

"They said. Fly." Jongdae mouths the last few words, trying them out, then says - "If you can."

Yixing doesn’t know why Jongdae has wings, but it obviously has something to do with the Capitol, and some sick, twisted idea of entertainment. There's no way the Capitol's going to let this go live on air. Neither can they let any of them live. Yixing and Chanyeol exchange glances, the realization fresh and bitter.

"We need to go," Yixing says. "Now."

\--

Jongdae leads the way through the city. It's getting darker and darker, the shadows lengthening. There could be people around, anywhere. The back of Yixing's neck prickles persistently.

Jongdae's quicker now. He balances easily on the uneven paths, wings unfolded. Hand in hand with Baekhyun, he leads Baekhyun carefully, jumping across gaps in the cracked earth first before letting Baekhyun cross over.

Yixing offers a hand to Chanyeol, who lifts an eyebrow at him and crosses the gap by himself.

"Why are you still here?" Yixing asks, falling in step with Chanyeol.

"You talk," Chanyeol retorts, plastering a look of surprise on his face. He doesn't stop scanning their surroundings.

"Why do you care so much about Baekhyun?"

"Why do you care." Chanyeol corrects him. "I heard about the pool. That was messed up, man. I don't get how you're still alive now."

"That's different." Was Yixing looking to die? He wasn't. "I don't have people important to me. But you do."

"Luhan," Chanyeol says, as though that says it all.

Yixing has to crouch, ducking through a wooden bedframe overgrown with creepers. Here, the buildings have crumbled, forming an almost impassable, five-storey heap of rubble. A plant snakes out of a porcelain sink, the green bright against the white.

“That’s not true,” Yixing says.

“He went to the Games for you.”

“I don’t owe him anything.” Yixing says brusquely. It was after Luhan came back to their district, adorned and smiling, that Yixing truly felt alone. 

\--

They go into one of those buildings that have their side torn wide open. There’s a rough heap of blankets in the far corner. A sink. Some tinned cans, in the corner. The place smells.

Yixing thinks about Jongdae sleeping here, night after night, alone in this dead town. Of watching people around him die and living through it and always being reminded of it every day, every street, every rumble in the distance. It's a fate worse than death for Yixing. If it was him, Yixing thinks, he'd have made sure that he was dead by now.

But then again, Yixing has always been selfish. 

"Yixing, say something," Chanyeol says, waving a hand. Jongdae's backing away from them, shaking his head. Baekhyun says something sharply to Chanyeol that makes him flinch, as Yixing approaches.

“I said," Chanyeol says, "That we should clean the-Jongdae up. At least his face."

Hygiene wise, Yixing agrees. But Chanyeol's not only thinking about that. The game-makers, they can't let this group of ragtag strangers win. Or even win any sympathy, which they would already have. 

For them, humanizing Jongdae is the best strategy they have.

It's then that a black object tumbles into the room, hitting the floor. The projection is up and playing before any of them can react.

It's raining on the hillslides. It's a mess of rocks and mud, ready to fall at any moment. And then it does, sliding inescapably towards the already battered houses in the valley. The lights go out, house by house, as the mudslide swallows it in its maw.

Jongdae's wings beat once, twice, then he's running, scared, away from them, plunging over the edge into the night. Chanyeol has to forcibly pull Baekhyun away, stopping him from following Jongdae.

If they made one of those black boxes for Yixing, they would probably put Baekhyun's screams within it, and the sight of Jongdae tumbling to the ground, wings useless. For a few horrible moments, Jongdae's crumpled body doesn't move. He pulls himself up, runs with an obvious link into a gap in a heap of rubble, blue wings folded tightly to his back.

\--

It goes downhill, after that. Chanyeol and Baekhyun fight, Baekhyun leaves to find Jongdae and Chanyeol, of course, follows him. Yixing says he'll take a different route and meet them back here, once they've done a circuit of the rubble.

Three hours later, Yixing still can't find Chanyeol or Baekhyun. Yixing's pretty sure he isn't lost, but he can't find them. Tired, he makes his way back to Jongdae's nest, suddenly cold.

There are no cannons, Yixing tells himself. No cannons yet.

Yixing's woken by the sound of cannons in the night. He grabs a blanket and bundles canned food, drinks from the sink. Leaves to find Baekhyun and Chanyeol, maybe Jongdae. 

He finds Jongdae first. The shape of the helicopter lifts itself up over the forest. Yixing treads cautiously through the ruined street, passes through the gates of a school. The signboard is still intact.

He finds Jongdae sitting beside a corpse. Jongdae's sad and small and a bit upset. Shoulders hunched, wings drooping, he stares at his hands. Fresh red blood gleams on his fingers and leaks from the corpse, soaking the grey floor of the basketball court around it.

He gets close enough to see that it's Kai, the district 3 champion. Yixing glances around, looking for any sign of the other careers.

Then he hears Jongdae. It's the same sound he heard in the teasers - the same voice, soft, hushed, private. Aching, like thunderclouds rolling abovehead - slow, sleepy, faintly sad. Jongdae sings with his eyes closed and hands together, rubbing at the blood on his fingers in jerky movements.

It's not the smartest thing to do, but Yixing sits down next to Jongdae, close enough to hear. Jongdae sings like someone lost, someone who has lost enough that anger and fear can't be sustained. What's left is only a searching, desperate need to keep ahead of the waves of pain; no way of understanding, only bewilderment at this ache that starts and never seems to stop.

It's like walking around knowing that a part of you will always stay gone. Yixing gazes at the full moon above, sighs.

The drone comes down towards them, picking up Kai's body and leaving. Yixing gets Jongdae to his feet and brings him to the river. Jongdae lolls his head on Yixing's shoulder, the smell of blood and dirt thick and choking in Yixing's throat.

Yixing dips his hands into water and holds Jongdae's hands, wiping the layer of - Yixing doesn't even know what this layer of grime is made up of.

Jongdae's hands are pale, from lack of sunlight, and scarred in places. A thick line of scar tissue runs across his palm, from digging his nails into them too hard.

Jongdae starts shaking, turning his head away, once Yixing starts going up his arms.

"Face." Yixing soothes. "Just your face. That's all."

Jongdae's very good for Yixing. He breathes, quick and panicked, but doesn't hit Yixing as Yixing wipes the dirt off Jongdae's face, skimming over the arch of his cheekbones. Jongdae's too thin.

Yixing likes his cheekbones, the curve of his lips - likes the way his eyelashes can't stop fluttering, likes the way he says "Yi-sing," like the phrase of a song.

Yixing shouldn't be taking care of Jongdae, and Jongdae shouldn't be letting Yixing get so close. But there's something familiar about Jongdae, something tired and something unasked - someone tired of fighting, just like Yixing. Maybe there's something familiar for Jongdae about Yixing, as well.

Jongdae's hair can't be really clean without soap, but Yixing gets it clean enough to see how it's jet-black, potentially soft.

It's like Yixing and Luhan, with Luhan taking care of Yixing. But this time, it's Yixing and Jongdae. Yixing's a bit older but not much wiser. Jongdae's a lot more hurt.  
\--

" - " Jongdae gestures, making a circle with his hands. "Projection."

"Your district made that," Yixing translates. District 5's main production is in power. Power, lighting, goods that deal with both of those. The black disc would fall right into their scope.

"I can." Jongdae indicates. "Myself - I can film."

Jongdae's remembering how to speak, slowly. "Why would that be a threat?"

"We made - eos - videos. People make their own. With - Baekhyun - district."

Now that he thinks about it, all media is produced by the Capitol. Yixing thinks about the people of his district on TV screens, worked to the bone in the fields. No, the Capitol would not want that on screen.

"The earthquake," Yixing says. "Was it-"

Jongdae purses his lips, blows out air. Finally he shakes his head. "Don't know," he says.

Jongdae looks too young, like this.

\--

They go to sleep at dawn. Or, Yixing does and Jongdae keeps watch.

A few minutes later, Jongdae's waking him up.

"Yising," he says, face stark white in terror. "Need to go."

There are ragtag robots picking themselves up from the streets, crudely constructed from scrap metal. They look like mutilated dogs.

Each of them has a black disk affixed to their collar.

Yixing and Jongdae spill out of the schoolroom, running across the football field. Dogs are picking themselves up as Yixing and Jongdae run past them. Yixing scales a tree beside the fence, reaching a hand down for Jongdae. They're crossing the green fence as a dog barks and crashes against the fence, shattering the disc.

Yixing almost falls as he hears a familiar voice.

Yixing, the voice says, then laughing, Yixing, don't miss us, Yixing -

"Go," Jongdae says fiercely, yanking Yixing back up. He straddles the fence awkwardly, staring at the drop ahead.

"Yixing," Jongdae shouts in Yixing's ear. "Yixing, Yising." he leans into Yixing, close enough for their cheeks to touch. "Yixing, please-"

Yixing's grip on the fence is shaky. he hasn't - that was his family.

Jongdae grabs his arm and pulls him over the fence, both falling to the ground together. Jongdae scrambles to his feet over Yixing, pulling at Yixing's arms, just as the screams start. It's the way Jongdae flinches, withdrawing into himself, that snaps Yixing out of it.

They run again, back into the city. Jongdae keeps twitching, drawing into himself, as the screams start. He stumbles over his own feet, and falls to the ground once, over a heap of bricks.

The dogs keep coming. There are drones in the air, dangling dogs from their claws.

They're herding them, Yixing realizes. There are dogs running parallel to them, disappearing and reappearing behind buildings, but they don't run directly at them.

Jongdae whimpers. They dash through an office and climb out of the back window. Yixing goes first, but Jongdae hangs back, shaking his head.

"Jongdae," Yixing says, through gritted teeth. The calls of YixingYixingYixingYixing rise and fall around them. "Jongdae!"

"River," Jongdae says, moving away from the window.

"They'll lock you up in here and make you see everyone die again," Yixing hisses. "The earthquake, the mudslide, that woman, your parents, your friends. Jongdae, come."

Jongdae's still shaking his head.

Yixing climbs back into the office. Jongdae looks at Yixing, surprised.

Yixing has never wanted to get close to people, because he knows that it's not easy to leave someone. For any reason.

"Don't leave me," Yixing says through a clogged throat. The last time he said it, it was to Luhan, in the ten minutes they had before they took him away to the Capitol.

A hound crashes through the bottom of the door, shattering its disc. It's Yixing's grandmother this time, in their house. She stands over them, weary. "Six months. They' gone and not comin' back, tha's life. Say' a word to me. Y' won't even look at me." Shaking her head, she walks away.

Yixing knows how it goes. She goes out the door and never comes back, tumbling to her death while hunting for food for both of them.

Jongdae jostles Yixing, wings rearing to shield him from the projection. "We go."

Yixing climbs out of the window to his grandmother's long, shrill scream. It was a long drop, he knew that. They didn't even find her body.

"Scared," Jongdae says, as they reach the edge of the concrete. Below used to be a long marketway, but water filled it up, leaving only the second stories of houses exposed. The water is an opaque green, unbroken.

"Can you swim?" Yixing asks.

"Maybe," Jongdae says doubtfully. Yixing's pulling them both over the edge before Jongdae has time to think.

Yixing's watched Jongdae's clarity leave him before, but it never gets easier to see. Jongdae surges from the water, huge wings beating, eyes blank with fear. Yixing has to tread water while trying to pull him in the right direction. They don't get more than one house before Jongdae's scaling the railing of a balcony, climbing over it.

There's a thump as a dog hits the roof of that house.

"Jongdae," Yixing says, "Jongdae, you -ah, fuck all this - "

It's possible to beat one dog to pieces. Yixing does it the best he can, a shivering Jongdae crying behind him. Yixing's hand hurts from swinging the chair around, but the dog is in pieces. He shuts his eyes as somebody starts screaming again, knocking the disc into the water. At the makeshift pier, the dogs are lining up.

There are drones in the horizon.

"You-go," Jongdae says. "You go."

They want to drown Jongdae. Or drive him mad. Yixing sees that, with a vicious clarity.

"Luhan," he says, as loud as he can, "Luhan, do you think Jongdae and I will go mad first? Luhan, you left me, but I'm not going to do that to someone else. You left and you never came back. Are you going to leave me behind here too?"

He talks, keeps talking loudly, over the growing chorus of sounds. It's a long shot but Yixing has no option left.

A parachute falls from the sky. Yixing tears it open to find a handful of berries inside, as purple as a bruise.

Yixing's got no choice. He feeds Jongdae berry by berry, staining his hand and Jongdae's mouth purple. "Sedative," he explains, trying to smile. Jongdae eats them all with terror staining his eyes.

It's not long before he starts to relax, eyes going soft. Yixing herds him over the raiiling, back into the water.

Jongdae's slow and hesitant, paddling slowly behind Yixing, but at least they're moving, They keep swimming and swimming, Yixing pulling Jongdae along as best as he can. 

They paddle through the water, threading in and out of floating objects and pillars. More than once, the current takes them through houses. Yixing gazes at the ceiling above, at the fans slowly spinning with the wind, at the portraits and pictures all still intact, and feels a shiver run down his spine. What happened to all the people? Even if they were dead, there were still bodies. Unless the Capitol removed all of that,, leaving behind only Jongdae.

When can they stop? Yixing hasn't eaten for days, nor slept. Everything is blurring together, all the houses, all the water, the sensation of floating. Jongdae's lips, bitten red through, as the sedative wears off and the fear returns. 

But they can't stop, not so soon. They need to go as far as they can. Jongdae hangs on grimly, obviously exhausted. His will to live touches something inside of Yixing. Something. Yixing hasn’t felt anything in so long.

They finally climb up onto land somewhere, under a restaurant. Inside, Yixing strips off his clothes and gestures for Jongdae to do the same. Night's falling, and it's too cold.

The only thing Yixing really cares about is the warmth of Jongdae's bare skin against his as they huddle together for warmth, sharing an old, dusty blanket. Yixing loops an arm around Jongdae's waist and holds him close, feeling the damp, wet wings against his arm. Glutted on water, both of them fall asleep almost instantly.

It's the last respite they get, for a while.

\--

The dogs find them, again. Here in the city, you can only run. Yixing and Jongdae keep running, and running, and running. The sun beats down on their heads, and for Yixing, the world is really spinning- with cries, cries of Yixing and Yixing come back and Yixing-

They fall and they get up and run. Yixing has a thought, that this is how they will die. But he sees Jongdae and Yixing doesn't feel like dying is the right answer, not now. It's this tiny, burning piece of anger that takes root in his heart and blossoms into rage, that sustains him.

There comes a time where he drops to his knees, unable to walk. Jongdae half-drags, half-carries him into a nearby house- a small shed - and locks the doors and windows. 

"You need to go," he tells Jongdae, tongue thick in his mouth. Jongdae says, simply, "Don't leave me."

Yixing's been afraid of feeling, for so long, because he loses people so easily. Because Yixing likes and needs and wants like a child, straightforward and unswayable. Because Yixing takes loss like a child, fast and hard and loyal. 

Jongdae is the same way, but he takes the present like an old man, holding a simple clarity for the moment. Jongdae's the one who pulls Yixing into his arms this time, heavy, still-wet wings coming to cover the both of them. Yixing looks at it and it feels like Yixing's set free, flying high in the cloudless sky.

The dogs surround the hut again. The calls rise and fall in a cacophony. Yixing clutches his head, pained. He's the one shivering now. 

He raises his voice to talk, as loud as he can. "I'm Zhang Yixing," he begins, "and I'm from District 9. I pluck herbs and plants for my district, and I lost my family when I was seven."

"Jongdae," Jongdae says. "District 5. We produce power." Jongdae stumbles over his words, but he's loud and clear. They keep talking, keep talking. Yixing's never talked about himself this way before. Jongdae talks and talks and doesn't stop, even as he can't stop the shaking from starting up again.

When Yixing's voice starts to crack, Jongdae starts singing. High, loud, and clear, like a bell tolling. Like the flight of an eagle under desert sun. 

He sings and keeps singing. Yixing can hear his voice turning hoarse, can see Jongdae wincing as he moves his throat. But Yixing can’t make Jongdae stop because like this Jongdae keeps the demons at bay. He sings and sings and keeps singing and Yixing considers killing himself, because this way both of them won’t survive and Yixing, Yixing. Yixing cares about Jongdae. Yixing hasn’t cared about anybody in a long time, hasn’t wanted to.

He wants to make new memories with Jongdae. Better memories.

The voices stop. 

"Yixing," a voice calls. A human voice. "Yixing, come out. Where's Luhan?"

Someone smashes the door open. Yixing and Jongdae get to their feet. 

It's Kris and Tao. Tao's eyes are rimmed red, but his grip on a long, wooden spear is steady.

"It's okay, Sehun," Kris says, as he squeezes into the room. "I know you hate them. I'll kill them. I'll kill them all."

It looks like Yixing and Jongdae weren't the only ones who got attacked by the dogs. Kris talks to thin air, addressing a Sehun that isn't there. 

This is the showdown the Capitol wants, Yixing knows. The careers against the rebels.

"Luhan should have died," Kris says. "He should have. I'll show him, I'll show him, what it's like to have a brother gone-"

Jongdae lunges at Tao, a quick blur. They tumble over in a snapping heap. 

Even when Kris hits Yixing, Yixing remembers Luhan cradling Sehun. At the faint smile on Luhan's face, at Yixing's inexplicable tears (Luhan was smiling, wasn't he?). Yixing's not sure if he can kill Kris.

It's only when Tao stakes Jongdae to the ground, spear through his wing, that Yixing gets a jolt. 

Jongdae's not someone that Yixing wants to lose. He takes a hit to his arm, but takes the opportunity to slash at Kris, making him jump back. He gets to Jongdae in time for Tao to aim a kick at Yixing, sending him toppling backwards.

Tao's stepping forward, lifting a foot to crush Yixing's windpipe. Yixing rolls out of the way, barely.

A familiar arrow sprouts out of Tao's eye. He makes a sound and falls to the ground, look of surprise on his face. Kris howls.

It's Baekhyun and Chanyeol. Kris fights like a madman, slashing viciously at the three of them. Baekhyun takes a gash to his leg, and Chanyeol one to his arm. Yixing's the one that kills him at last, thrusting Tao's spear through his heart. Kris dies snarling and spitting, hate until the end. 

\--

It's only the four of them, left. Chanyeol says, "Let's go," and Yixing, Baekhyun and Jongdae follow. 

Halfway through the town, the ground starts to shake. Rubble topples and they run. It's only Baekhyun that gets trapped under the rubble, head exposed, concrete rafter weighing down on his chest. 

The district- the earthquake was arranged by the Capitol, then. They wiped out the entire district 8, and now they want to do the same to them.

"Jongdae," he says - Jongdae has to lean in close to hear, even as all of them tear with their bare hands at the rubble- "Jongdae, sing to me."

So Jongdae sings, voice choked. He sings with words for the first time, sings of grass and sun and hands touching each other across wire fences. He sings as the light leaves Baekhyun's eyes, sings with only the already hoarse voice and raw throat he has. 

Baekhyun hums along, and they both sing the same song, about two boys and long afternoons and forevers. 

This is a golden afternoon, too, and Baekhyun goes with words on his lips and sun on his face.

The cannon's sharp and startling. 

Chanyeol cries, for the first time. Jongdae's too wrecked to cry, simply leans into Yixing and closes his eyes. 

A parachute falls out of the sky, lands on Baekhyun's chest. Yixing opens it through blurry eyes.

"Sunset orchid," the note reads. It's a - it's Luhan. They used to talk about orchids about sunset, about them being always too far to the west.

Another parachute lands. It reads, "Chanyeol, Baekhyun, gates."

"Yes," Chanyeol says, after a long pause. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. "Yes."

Yixing doesn't ask. He leads the way west, in the direction of the setting sun. Jongdae follows, head down. 

\--

It's not a long walk. They're at the perimeters, soon enough. Drones are coming in the distance, again. 

"Back away," Chanyeol says, leaning down to inspect the barricades. Made up of black metal, they're long and tall. "Here," he says clearly, pointing at one spot. He drags Yixing and Jongdae backwards. 

The barricades explode open with a loud sound. 

"Come on," Luhan says, from the helicopter door. Xiumin's in the seat next to him, staring out the window. The faint gleam of tears can still be seen on his cheeks. 

"This is-"

"No one's going to win this Hunger Games," Luhan says. "Yixing-"

"Not-" Yixing shakes his head. "It's fine. Are you - is this a -"

"It's a rebellion." Xiumin says flatly, still not turning to face them. "Come. Park Chanyeol-if you cared about Baekhyun, get on."

"Jongdae," Yixing says. 

"I want to-they." Jongdae touches his wings. "They said I - fly. If I could. They thought it was funny." He gazes at the whirring blades of the copter. "Baekhyun. Yes."  
And then, "Yixing, don't leave me."

"Don't leave me," Yixing echoes quietly. They look at each other, really look at each other. 

Yixing's heard most of Jongdae's worst nightmares. Jongdae sang his throat raw - not hoarse, but raw, singing steadily for so long - so they both wouldn't hear Yixing's.

Both too used to being alone, both not used to being alone, now. 

They board the helicopter together, and inside, they hold each other for a few minutes, as the copter is lifted towards the sky. Jongdae's tears soak Yixing's skin. Yixing listens to him crying, and knows that he'll do whatever he can do to protect Jongdae. Knows that loss might be inevitable, again, but the weight of Jongdae against him, solid, real, is too important to give up.

\--

 

That year, the Risings start.

**Author's Note:**

> written for justgetlayd 2014!


End file.
